


Shining Armor

by Crystalshard



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Kidnapping, M/M, Winteriron Holiday Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 19:00:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5509451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystalshard/pseuds/Crystalshard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is, and always has been, more than capable of getting himself out of kidnap situations. However, sometimes it's nice to have someone come to find you - especially when it's the man you love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shining Armor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Akira_of_the_Twilight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akira_of_the_Twilight/gifts).



> This is a pinch-hit for Akira_of_the_Twilight, for the Winteriron Holiday Exchange. I hope it's as much fun to read as it was to write!

Tony groaned as his hangover hauled him relentlessly out of the welcome black of unconsciousness. Cold. Why was it cold? Concrete surface . . . had he passed out on the garage floor? And something metallic was digging into his wrist. A screwdriver?

He shifted his hand, intending to lift it away from whatever it was resting on . . . 

. . . only to be brought up short as the chain clinked. 

His eyes opened involuntarily and fixed on the faraway, corrugated-plastic ceiling. This was _not_ the garage at Avengers Tower. This was a warehouse, and he was handcuffed to a metal water pipe. He was still dressed, no thanks to his captors for that bare bit of human decency, and he still had one hand free. Their first miscalculation. Well, technically their second, the _first_ being having kidnapped him. There was a folding table and a chair off to one side, with a lonely mug of what smelled like coffee sitting near the edge of the table. Its drinker was nowhere in sight.

His hand wasn't small enough anymore to slip out of the cuffs, but he still had his ingenuity. What he didn't have was his wallet, his phone, his watch, or –

"He's awake!" 

Tony jerked his head around to see the presumed owner of the coffee, Generic Hired Goon #1, striding towards him. His violent attempt at dodging was abruptly arrested by his still-tethered wrist, and then Goon #1 had him secured in a parody of a bear hug. "Sorry," Goon #1 whispered apologetically. "Boss wants you unconscious, but we don't want to hurt you." Even as Tony tried to wrench himself free, he felt a sharp sting in his upper arm as the previously unseen Goon #2 jammed a needle into his arm. 

_That explains the hangover,_ Tony thought muzzily as he sank back into soft warm darkness. 

* * *

When Tony roused again, he stayed still and kept his eyes shut as he listened for breathing noises. Nothing was immediately audible, so he cracked his eyes open a little, and immediately winced as actinic yellow light stabbed through his eyeballs into his brain. It took a few moments for his sight to adjust, although the unwelcome pounding headache and dry mouth failed to lessen. 

It was darker outside, but an overhead light had been switched on. The pool of light enclosed both him and – yes, the desk, and it was unoccupied again. A piece of good luck for him, and poor planning for them. _Amateurs._

Tony dug his free hand into his jacket pocket, coming up with a twist of copper wire and a paperclip. Not ideal lockpicks, but better than nothing. He rolled over, facing the wall as he curled around his cuffed hand and inspected the lock. Honestly, that was _pathetic_ , he'd seen better locks on children's piggy banks. His rudimentary tools did their job, and Tony pulled his wrist away from the radiator he'd been chained to with a silent sigh of relief. Okay. Exit, exit . . . ah, yes, that way. Hadn't these guys read the Evil Overlord's Handbook? 

Tony stepped into the darkness surrounding the circle of light, hugging the wall as he tried to move quietly. Before he could reach the nearest exit, however, a door at the other end banged open and running feet raced over to the now-empty spot where he'd been chained. It was Goon #1, looking terrified. "He's gone!" the man yelled, presumably towards someone outside the door. 

The muffled thud of the unseen guard's body dropping to the floor was apparently not what Goon #1 had expected, but it made Tony relax all at once. He didn't need to see the glint of light on metal to know that it was Bucky stepping through the door, contained violence in every step and a gun pointed directly at Tony's captor.

"Don't kill him, Buckster," Tony called over, changing direction and circling the light as he headed towards Bucky. 

"Tony? You're all right?" Bucky shouted back, well-hidden relief in his voice. 

"Fine, aside from a remarkable number of hangover symptoms that are really unfair because I didn't even have the fun of getting drunk first."

He was close enough now to see the slight upwards curve of Bucky's lips. "Good. You, no, don't move," he added, addressing Goon #1, who sensibly had his hands over his head. "Tell me about this place." 

Tony made it to Bucky's side as the shaking guard babbled everything he knew. Tony took the gun that Bucky passed him, fingertips brushing in silent comfort before Tony took up position at Bucky's back, watching for anyone emerging from the door. Tony wished that he could have greeted his lover with a kiss, but now wasn't the time.

Nobody appeared before Goon #1 finished babbling, but there was a lot of distant shouting and the faint roar of a car engine. 

* * *

"So, that was fun, let's never do that again," Tony said breezily as the ex-military jeep they'd hijacked growled its way through the night. Bucky had wanted to drive, but 1. Tony preferred to drive himself, 2. Tony was the better driver, and 3. Bucky would need his hands free if he had to shoot anyone. Bucky had bowed reluctantly to the logic and moved over.

"Sure you're okay?" Bucky pressed, turning Tony's liberated phone over and over in his hands. 

Okay, Tony might have _sometimes_ have failed to mention the odd minor cuts or bruises after missions. "I swear, I'm okay," he promised. "Whatever drugs they used wore off, and the worst they did was handcuff me to a radiator and steal my phone. Thanks for getting it back, but the way. And for coming to my rescue." 

"No problem. Just wish the boss guy hadn't escaped before I got you out of there." Moonlight glinted off Bucky's arm as he fidgeted. "Where'd you learn how to pick handcuffs?" 

"I would say it's a legacy of my misspent youth, but honestly? I got started earlier." Tony hesitated, then shrugged. His lover already knew things that he hadn't even told Rhodey. "I first got kidnapped when I was . . . seven, I think? Three big thugs, van, the works. I knew my old man would prefer a rescue to paying whatever ludicrous random they demanded, just on principle, so I decided to get myself out. Wasn't hard - I was a smart kid. I shorted the lights and the power grid, left the window open to make them think I'd run away, then hotwired a van and used a mop and a broom to push the pedals. I think I got about fifteen miles away before I realized I was lost." 

He snorted in negative nostalgia. "This guy in black found me - seriously, black leather jacket, black gloves, black face mask and goggles . . . the works. I thought he was one of the kidnappers, I was all set to run away, but he said he was on protection detail and showed me Obie's business card. He drove me back to New York, didn't say much but fair's fair, neither did I. I think I fell asleep in the passenger seat, because the next thing I knew I was in hospital with my mom sat next to me and my dad arguing with the cops outside. Never saw the guy again." 

Tony drove on in silence for another half-mile or so before realizing that Bucky had stilled in the seat next to him. He glanced to his right, puzzled, to see Bucky sitting frozen beside him. 

"Buck?" Tony pulled the jeep over, worry in his eyes. 

"That was me." 

"That was you, what do you mean that was . . . oh. Oh. Son of a bitch." Facts began to click together, a jigsaw puzzle that had just found the central piece. "Obie must have been in it up to his neck even then to send the Winter Soldier to rescue me. Dad must have been driving him round the bend." 

Bucky swallowed, still looking down. "I got there after you'd escaped. I killed the men who'd kidnapped you. Your track wasn't hard to find, so I stole a car and followed you." 

"Sounds like I owe you for two rescues, then," Tony said firmly, cupping Bucky's face with a warm hand and tilting his face up to meet his eyes. The kiss he planted on Bucky's lips was soft but fervent. "And when we get home, I'm going to order dinner and then thank you properly." 

With a shudder, Bucky unfroze and kissed back.


End file.
